An Abyss of Light (The Light Trilogy) (56 page)

“Tormenting?” he chuckled, glancing sideways at her. “Not at all.”

Adom looked up inquiringly. “You … you haven’t been?”

“No. And, as well, I’ve had a very difficult week. If we’re going to discuss political realities before an audience,” he sighed, waving a hand at Rachel, “I’d like to help myself to the Ngoro whiskey first.” Without waiting for an answer, he strode across the room and pulled a dusty hundred-year-old bottle from the cabinet. Grabbing a glass, he walked back to the table. Adom and Rachel, he noticed, exchanged a tense look.

Sitting again, Ornias removed the petrolon cork and poured himself a stiff amount, noting with pleasure the rich amber color. “Now, back to business,” he said curtly, fixing Adom with his most honest expression. “I don’t torment. You’ve known me long enough to realize that. If I have a problem, I
eliminate
it. To prolong any conflict is counterproductive.”

Adom ran a pale hand through his blond hair, licking his lips as though he feared Ornias. A healthy attitude. “What have you been doing to subdue the rebels? Rachel said that the last time I was in deep consultation with Milcom you—”

“Oh, some of the marines got out of hand without my knowing it. You know how that goes. You can’t watch everybody all the time. But I assure you, the ruthless men have been duly punished.” He sipped his whiskey. The robust flavor slid smoothly down his throat to build a fire in his stomach.
Umm, blessed whiskey.

“You punished them? The ones who killed the rebels?”

“Of course, Adom. I demand justice. I would never—”

“You’re a
filthy
liar!” Rachel accused hotly, half standing up. “You ordered the holocaust! It was only after you flew over in the
samael
that the marines started firing!”

“It didn’t happen while I was there, did it?”

“No, but—”

“Well, there you have it. After I’d gone, the men took measures into their own hands.” He turned mournful eyes on Adom, lowering his voice to a sympathetic coo. “Mashiah, you know how the people hate anyone who opposes Milcom’s loving rule. Your followers despise the rebels. I’ve been
restraining
the faithful in every way I know how, but sometimes things get out of hand. Like the pathetic accident in the square.”

Adom’s boyish face tensed. “Yes, the people do hate the rebels. It’s a terrible thing, but true.” He glanced sheepishly at Rachel.

“Adom,” she murmured, dark eyes widening in fear. “He’s a clever liar. Not a word of what he says is true!”

“But, Rachel, Ornias is right about the sentiments of the people. I know myself they screamed for your murder after the temple destruction.”

“Don’t be foolish, Adom! Ornias rules the marines with an iron fist. They wouldn’t dare disobey him! He orders the mass murders!”

Ornias heaved a breath, shaking his head in defense. Adom’s eyes went back and forth between them, not knowing precisely what to think. But then he never did. He had to be told. Perhaps the time had come to smash the Mashiah’s faith in his newfound confidante?

“Adom?” Ornias murmured, pinning Rachel with a cold glare. “Did Rachel also tell you that her friends, the Desert Fathers, are mounting a tremendous attack against us? They want to kill you and all your followers and reestablish the old religion again. Did she mention she’s one of their tools?”

“What?” Adom whispered unsteadily, whirling to stare at her. Every line in his face gleamed with hurt. She paled, staring up speechlessly.

“Oh, yes, they sent her here specifically to keep you distracted while they organized their forces.”

“It’s not true,” she insisted. “I came here to beg you to have mercy on the Old Believers. I know nothing about any attack plans. I would never betray you, Adom!” At the still, ravaged expression on his vulnerable face, she paused. Seeming to come to a difficult decision, she stood and went to stand beside the Mashiah, laying a hand intimately on his arm. “Please,” she whispered, eyes imploringly searching his face, “don’t let Ornias ruin the feelings growing between us.”

His blue eyes widened, breathing quickening. “Do you—have feelings for me?”

“Yes. And he’s trying to push us apart just as we’re getting close. I need you, Adom.”

He smiled down at her. “I need you, too, Rachel.”

Ornias squeezed the bridge of his nose, frowning distastefully. He had the uncomfortable feeling he’d been outmaneuvered. “Really, Adom, you must get over your puerile infatuation for this woman. She’s using your emotions against you. Can’t you see that?”

A flicker of anger froze the man’s face. “It’s not your concern, Ornias. If Rachel says she knows nothing of any war plans, then she doesn’t. I trust her and I won’t have you—”

“All right,” Ornias said and laughed, throwing up his hands. It didn’t matter anyway. “Well, I’ve been preparing the polar chambers for you in case the attackers strike sooner than we anticipate. Shall I instruct the servants to prepare the chambers for
two?”
He gave Rachel an oily smile. She’d made her nest, he’d certainly let her sleep in it, help her, in fact.

Adom glanced warmly at her, squeezing the hand resting on his forearm. “Will you go with me? If the time comes?”

“I don’t …” she began in terror, then halted as though through physical effort. “Yes. Yes, Adom. I’ll go.”

Ornias bowed his head, lips curling in a suppressed smile. He took another sip of his whiskey, relishing the richness. “I’ll see to it, then.”

“What are the polar chambers?” she asked Adom.

“They’re hundreds of years old. No one really knows who built them, but they’re a sophisticated network of underground rooms. We think they were originally built to protect the Kings of Horeb from celestial attack.” Gently, he added. “I’ve seen them. They’re very comfortable. Don’t worry.”

She jerked a nod and Ornias noted with amusement that the hands she clenched into fists trembled like leaves in the wind.

“Well, if there’s nothing else, Adom, I still have many duties to carry out tonight.” He drained his glass and leaned forward expectantly.

The Mashiah shook his head slowly. “No, Ornias. I have nothing else. Rachel, do you want to ask the Councilman any more questions?’”

He turned to Rachel as though hanging on her next words. “Please ask. I’m at your disposal.”

She lifted her chin, dark eyes sparkling with moisture and near hysterical defeat. He smiled in anticipation. Had she really thought she could present the truth and it would stand against his manipulation of the facts? The silly little fool. She knew nothing about him or his talents.

“No,” she finally whispered.

“Good, then I’ll be on my way.” Bowing, he turned and strode happily for the door. As he exited, he caught a final glimpse of Adom staring in childish delight at the woman destined to cut his throat.
Well, I warned, you, you imbecile. I’d planned on having it happen accidentally when the cause would most benefit from a blessed martyr, but perhaps mis is more poetic. And if you’re both at the polar chambers, I can still hold the announcement of your murder and use it to maximum benefit when it’s most advantageous.

Ornias hummed gaily as he headed back for his bedchamber and a night with Shassy. There wouldn’t be many more. He wanted to rend as much as he could from those remaining.

Adom gazed joyously down at Rachel. She’d said her feelings for him were growing. Lifting a hand to caress her silken hair, his heart pounded so loudly in his ears, he could barely hear himself speak. “Rachel, would you … Could we be together tonight?” Shocked at his boldness, he hastily amended, “if you want to. I’ll understand if you don’t.”

“Yes …”

At the answer, he stopped breathing. Fear glimmered in the magnificent ebony depths of her eyes. Almost instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close against him, stroking her hair tenderly.

“It’s all right, don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”

“I know, Adom. Forgive me—my nerves. It’s just—my husband’s death is so recent, I—I’m not sure how I’ll—”

“Are you sure you want to be close to me? We don’t have to.”

“Yes,” she said almost sternly. “I want to.”

Her arms hesitantly went around his waist and he felt her hands resting softly against his back. He tightened his hold on her, the warm feelings of her breasts against his chest causing his pulse to race. A flush taunted him.

Slowly, he released his grasp and guided her toward the door and down the hall to his bedchamber.

CHAPTER 34

Jeremiel wandered absently around his prison, occasionally throwing logs onto the dwindling fire to fight the night’s chill. The gray stone walls and high ceiling seemed to suck all his warmth away, leaving him bone-cold and weary.

Folding his arms, he paced before the mirror hanging over his plank bed, staring at himself. He looked like hell, bruised and battered. Worse, he sensed something growing in the dark silence, some malignancy without form.

“How long do I have to wait, Ornias?” he gritted, fingers digging into his arms as he paced. “Tahn, damn it, you know what this must be like.
Call his hand!
Force him to turn me over!”

Surely Tahn knew by now that the Councilman had him. How many days would this torture of waiting continue? Silently, he cursed himself. He ought to break that damned mirror and slit his carotid artery with a shard. They only checked on him once every half hour. He’d be dead long before they came again.

“If it comes to the that, I will,” he backtalked his conscience. “But I’ve been in far worse traps than this and managed to get out. I just haven’t thought of every possibility yet. I have to …”

Voices filled the hallway outside. He spun. They’d checked on him only ten minutes ago, who could be coming to see him at this late hour?

Had Tahn heard him? A tingle of adrenaline went through him.

Yosef peered around the corner, spying the two guards in front of the door. Easing back, he nodded to Ari who waved his stolen pulse pistol confidently. Crouched behind a rose agate statue of Saint Broglie, his friend’s mop of gray hair seemed to sprout from the statue’s armpit.

“Go!” Ari hissed, waving an arm erratically.

Yosef took a deep breath, brushed absently at the sleeves of his lavender robe and rounded the corner. The guards stiffened as he waddled unhurriedly toward them, the blond’s hand dropping to the gun on his hip. Yosef felt a little like a field mouse under those piercing hawklike gazes.
A captain, sergeant and private. Weren’t they the same men who’d dragged Jeremiel up the stairs that night when he and Ari had hidden in the hall?
He pushed his spectacles up higher on his nose and squinted. Yes! What were their names? Loma was the private, he remembered. Anger built in Yosef s chest. The little brute had made a point of hurting Jeremiel. Maybe he ought to let Ari shoot him?
Back to business
—
what was the captain’s name? Think you old fool! El? Something like that.

As he neared, the captain ordered, “Halt. State your name and business.” He examined Yosef severely. His gray suit looked like he’d slept in it, wrinkles creasing the arms and legs in spidery patterns.

“Are you … El?” Yosef asked in a kindly way, smiling.

The captain blinked, glancing uneasily at his companions. “I am.”

“You’re one of the Mashiah’s favorites, did you know that? He considers your heart to be of the purest quality.” Yosef adopted a serene and glowing expression, trying to mimic the one Adom used when he spoke like that.

The captain’s hard face softened. A bare smile curled his lips. “Wait a minute, don’t I know you? Aren’t you one of his personal aides?”

“Oh, yes. I’m Yosef Calas. The Mashiah told me to be sure and give this to
you,
El.” Yosef waddled forward, heedless of the guns the other two guards slipped from their holsters. He handed the captain the crystal sheet, and held his breath.

El unfolded it, brow furrowing as he read aloud: “Yosef Calas and Ari Funk are acting under orders from me. Please allow them access to your area and follow their instruction.” The captain glanced up suspiciously at Yosef. “Tony? Take a look at this.”

Yosef smiled mildly under their scrutiny. Had he known Adom would sign the authorization without reading it, he’d have made it more specific, but the words were designed to be vague enough that he could defend it as a library pass. It had been Ari’s idea to interrupt Adom while he was with Rachel, figuring he’d be less inclined to question the wording. Though they hadn’t met the woman at the time, they’d seen her with the Mashiah, seen his eyes light when he looked at her. Obviously the gangly boy had a crush on her. Yosef looked back to the sergeant.
Blessed Epagael, let them buy it as easily as Adom did.

The dark-haired officer lifted his brows. “It’s certainly the Mashiah’s signature, El. I’ve seen it a thousand times. Nobody could forge that flowing scrawl.” He handed the note back to Yosef.

“But maybe we ought to send Loma to make sure. The Councilman would—”

“Don’t even think about it! Ornias said he was going to meet with the Mashiah on a matter of grave importance and
nobody
was to disturb them. I won’t be responsible for—”